Insomaniac.

Flesh tablets and lipstick-red capsules were scattered across the floor, probably from a certain container that fell from the queen-sized bed. The bottle failed to put a label, but from what he had seen: it’s a combination of painkillers and sleeping pills. As the investigators analyze the attempted suicide, the man wasn’t breathing. Overdose. Probabilities evolve: the suspect (or victim) probably killed himself out of depression, of failed marriage, of life threats. All the while, they were overlooking the simple answer.

Insomnia.

It was me, but that paragraph was pure fiction. Yet the reality is here to stay.

The grief-stricken mixture of hassle and pressure was too powerful to knock out a fifteen year old. Skipping the normal sleeping time, establishing your own time zone, and going against all normal people – I say, is hard. I eat my breakfast, I go online, I post something in my blog, I do my assignments, I review lessons, I play the guitar and I even daydream during midnight. Adik talaga. Gising sa gabi, antukin sa umaga. Computing on how many hours have I slept for the past days: three, four, three. Weekends would be five, or six. Ten hours would be the maximum: that is – if I crossed out something on my planner.

Uhh, I don’t have a planner. It’s just on my mind.

Right now, my brain wants to tear apart. Like a nutshell emptying its juices in a Pyro-olympic form. I have felt its impact long ago: not seizures, but the constant migraine, spiral eyesight (take it literally, it’s like entering a humongous kaleidoscope – after two seconds, it’s gone.), blurred vision, lost of mind, and the swelling eyebags. But it makes me cute.

When you’re insomniac, everything’s a copy of a copy. I can’t sleep so long. And no, I am not visually impaired (vision is 50 : 0). Mine is parasomnia. Once in my childhood, I experienced sleep-walking. Paggising ko, nasa kusina na ko. So far, that was my last encounter. Another thing, I tend to move my body in response to some events within a dream. Kadalasan nga, dun pa ako nagigising eh.

My judgments are not yet concluded. I am uncertain about it.

They say that sleep, so far, is the most attainable luxury a man can simply indulge. It looks simple to you, but on the other way around, it’s one of the most complicated things I can’t do. I force myself to sleep, but I can’t. I force myself not to sleep during class, but I can’t stop my body from doing it.

I need to sleep. It’s 1:37 AM. January 11. And my class is 6:45 AM.

~ by utakgago on January 10, 2007.